That's Enough Now, Dry Your Tears
by Vita Fidens
Summary: Sequel to "I'm Facing What You Won't Tonight." Liz Moore has made a deal with the devil. That sort of thing never ends well. Rated M: Language, sex
1. Chapter 1

I was forced to admit, this whole using Dean for sex thing was working out a lot better than I had expected.

First off, he was so damn good in bed – the fact that I had this thought while his face was buried in between my thighs was no coincidence – that I found myself immediately less stressed. I was satisfied. Second, he was actually not being insane about it. We'd been meeting up whenever we could over the last few weeks, and he was leaving everything as it was. There were no late-night phone calls; there was no talk of loving me, no talk of missing me.

It really was a perfect arrangement. You know, if you forgot the fact that he had a girlfriend – which I tried to do as often as humanly possible.

If she wasn't such a bitch, I might have felt a bit guiltier about fucking her boyfriend.

My thoughts ceased abruptly when Dean slid away from me and knelt between my thighs, teasing my clit with the head of his cock. I arched my back, moaning softly. He had the ability to make me want him desperately.

He teased me for a few minutes, pushing only an inch or so inside of me before returning to gently rub against my clit. I pushed my hips impatiently, and I could see a smile start to bloom on his face.

"What is it, Lizzy?" He murmured, his voice a bit deeper than usual. "What is it that you want?"

"I want you," I said with absolutely no hesitation.

"Do you?" He asked, positioning himself so he was just barely inside of me again. "Do you really?"

"Yes."

"Show me. Kiss me."

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his face down to mine. I could taste myself on his mouth and knew that was why he wanted me to do this – he'd been amused by it lately for some odd reason. I bit his lower lip to let him know I'd figured out what the hell he was after before I gave him an actual kiss.

The minute my teeth had sunk into his lip, he'd pulled my hips up. I could feel him start throbbing as I kissed him, and I pushed towards him.

His restraint finally broke, and he thrust completely inside of me.

I was on the verge of one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever had when he reached down and began stroking my clit. Suddenly, the sensation became too much – the feeling became far too big for my body.

To keep myself from screaming and waking up the entire floor of our hotel, I bit my lip so hard that I started bleeding. Dean saw this and it seemed to send him into a frenzy; he began thrusting into me violently before bending down to press his mouth against my bleeding lip.

I felt his cum start to fill me, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought that his orgasm had been just as intense as mine. It was a small victory, but it was a victory.

He thrust in me a few more times before rolling onto his back on the bed, sweaty and panting.


	2. Chapter 2

"Fuck," he finally said, his hand coming to the side of my face to bring my mouth to his. He kissed me intensely, his fingers sliding down and gently slipping inside of me. "I made one hell of a mess," he said conversationally as his fingers played. I shuddered and tried to push his hand away, but he laughed and began stroking my clit with his thumb.

"Ambrose," I said warningly, even as my hips began to rock. He smiled down at me lazily before his mouth clamped onto my nipple, his tongue lightly teasing me.

When I came again, he pressed his mouth on mine to keep me from screaming.

If I hadn't been satisfied before that, I certainly was now.

He pulled his fingers out and brought them up to my mouth. "Open," he said. I stared at him, unamused. He pinched my nipple roughly in response. "Open," he repeated.

I obliged him, and he shoved his fingers in my mouth. "Clean me up." I began lightly sucking on his fingers while he watched me intently.

"How do we taste?" He asked quietly.

I gave him a look. He grinned. "I'll just have to see for myself," he murmured, bending down and kissing me, his hands wandering to my breasts.

"Haven't you had enough?" I asked half-jokingly as I pushed his hands away. I was incredibly tender all over.

"I told you that I'd never have enough of you, Lizzy. Especially not when I make you come like that." He took my hand and brought it down to his dick, which was already halfway hard. "Do you want me again?" He asked, pressing his lips in my hair.

Touching him, watching him get harder and harder as I stroked him, only reignited that fire in my belly and before long I was riding him with reckless abandon, not giving a flying fuck what the people in the next room heard.

Dean held on to my hips and tried to control my wild bouncing with deeper thrusts before he finally came again, his body tensing all over as he filled me.

I collapsed onto the bed beside him, panting.

When I finally caught my breath, I turned towards him. "Just give me a few minutes. When my legs start working again, I'll be out of your hair."

He laughed. "Don't worry too much about it," he said casually.

We were quiet for a few minutes, waiting for our breathing to return to normal. I finally asked him something that had been bugging me. "Why don't you use a condom with me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that I should?"

I shook my head. "Not necessarily. I just know that you carry them."

"I carry them for sleeping with Becky," he replied.

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. "You guys have been together for, like, two years. And you're using condoms with her. We've been fucking casually for three weeks, and you go bareback?"

He shrugged. "You're the only woman I do that with. I know that you're clean and that you're not going to get pregnant thanks to that handy little IUD."

"How do you know…. Never mind. I'm not sure I want to know."

He grinned at me. "The big question for me is, why do you let me fuck you bareback? If you're so worried about all of this."

I shrugged uncomfortably. "I didn't say anything at first because we were in a much different situation. These last few weeks…" I sighed. "It just feels better," I finally admitted. "It's stupid for me to put that above my safety, but I hate the way those feel."

He rested his hand on my stomach. "You have nothing to worry about. I'm always safe with everyone else, and I get tested regularly. You're the only one. And I'm going to ask that you extend me the same courtesy."

It was a reasonable request. I agreed to it readily.

"All right," I yawned, sitting up. "I'm out of here."

"You don't have to leave if you're too tired. You can stay and sleep here."

The words hung between us awkwardly. "Thanks, Dean," I said carefully. "But I'm going to be heading out. I don't want us to get in the habit of spending the night together."

"Why not?" He asked, his hand gripping my arm gently while he placed a kiss on my shoulder. "I think we'll both sleep better."

I sighed, pulling away from his touch. "Come on. We agreed. Just sex. I don't want to blur the lines too much."

He was quiet for a moment. "All right," he finally said easily. "You're right. Just sex."


	3. Chapter 3

I noticed a slight change in our arrangement during the next few weeks.

We were having sex more often than before, but I frequently found myself frustrated at the end of it – Dean would get off and then leave. I had an inkling as to what he was trying to do, but I attempted to push that thought out of my head. Why would he bother with trying to get me frustrated and wound up when he didn't spend any other time with me? He wouldn't be able to see the results of his handiwork.

He caught me in the arena one night, dragging me to an out-of-the-way hallway and bending me over. I leaned on the wall for support, groaning softly while he thrust into me. I rocked my hips back in rhythm with him and found myself reaching down to stroke my clit without conscious thought. It had been a week since I'd had an orgasm, and this felt so good.

Ambrose grabbed my hand and yanked it painfully behind my back. "No," he said simply, thrusting into me even harder and pushing my face to the wall.

I sighed. "What the fuck are you trying to do, Ambrose?"

"I'm just trying to focus, Elizabeth. I can't do that with you touching yourself in front of me."

I pulled away from him and turned around to face him, glaring. "I don't know what you're playing at," I said, trying to keep my voice even, "but I'm tired of this little game."

He grinned. "This isn't a game, sweetheart. This is just what you wanted – all we're doing is fucking. I don't care about the women I fuck, so I don't care if you get off or not. I just want to get mine and be done with it."

He reached out and lightly touched my face. "Although I do miss the way your pussy tastes," he murmured, stepping closer to me. "I miss the way you shiver and shake when I fuck you with my tongue. God, you taste so sweet."

I closed my eyes. This was not helping my situation any.

"What do you want?" I finally asked tiredly.

"I've been telling you all along, Lizzy. I want _you_." He poked a finger into my chest. "And I don't mean I want this half-assed 'just sex' bullshit. I want to fuck you and sleep next to you and fight you and kiss you whenever I want."

He moved forward to kiss me, his hands tangled in my hair. "Just give in," he said when he pulled away. "I know you want to."

"You have a girlfriend," I reminded him.

He shook his head. "Only until you come around."

I hesitated. This had been bothering me for a while now. "Why are you still with her?"

He grinned. "To make you jealous. I know you don't like her, and believe me the feeling is mutual. But I want you to think about me sleeping next to her at night and I want it to feel like a knife twisting in your gut. I want you to get angry and get mean and decide that she can't have me. You're already halfway there. I just need to find a way to shove you over that edge."

"And you think that by not letting me come that's going to do it?" I asked, tilting my head and laughing. "No, Ambrose. I'll just find someone else to fuck."

The grin fell off his face immediately. "I will make your life hell," he promised.

I laughed bitterly. "You did that once, and I'm still here." It was my turn to poke him in the chest. "You're going to be the only one suffering."

I reached down to pull up my pants, and he grabbed me by the throat and brought me back up to look at him. "I'm not kidding, Elizabeth," he growled. "You'd better not."

I felt a not-unsubstantial thrill of terror run through me. "Or what?" I managed to spit angrily. He squeezed my throat in response.

"Things would end very badly for you."

We stood there for a few minutes, at an impasse with his hand around my throat. "I'm done with this," I finally declared. "I'm done with you and all of this bullshit. This was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

He sneered. "No, Lizzy. _This_, right here, trying to end this – you're going to see that as your biggest mistake soon."

He gave my throat a final, agonizing squeeze before letting go. I took deep breaths while he pulled his own pants back up and fastened his belt. He stalked away a few steps before turning around to look at me again.

He actually looked anguished. "I didn't want it to be this way. I hope you know that."


	4. Chapter 4

"You and Dean are both in a mood tonight," Paul observed cautiously.

I glanced up at him briefly before returning to the schedule. "Yeah. Sorry."

He hesitated a few moments. "Should I be worried?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

He went uncharacteristically silent. I finally looked up at him curiously. "Liz, we all know." He was trying to be gentle, but it still punched me in the gut. "We're not blind. The two of you sneaking off all the time, how nice you're suddenly being to Becky…we put it together."

I swallowed hard. "Oh," was all I managed to say.

"What I can't figure out," he said after a few minutes, "is what exactly is going on between you two. Why is that insufferable Goth-wannabe still hanging around my show if you and Dean are finally together?"

I shook my head. "We're not together. We're just…"

"Fucking," Paul finished helpfully. I nodded. He sighed. "Whose terrible idea…never mind; I don't want to know," he said, shaking his head. "Let me guess. He isn't happy with that arrangement any longer."

It was eerie just how Paul had an uncanny knack for reading situations. "How did you know?"

"I know you two." He sat in front of me, clasping his hands together. "Deep down, you must have known that this was going to happen."

I glanced away, ashamed to admit that I had. On some level, I had wanted this. I wasn't quite sure why.

"Do you think maybe it's time for you to at least try with him?" I looked up, surprised, and he tilted his head at me with a small smile on his face. "Liz, it's not hard to see. For whatever reason, the two of you can't stay away from each other."

"Paul, there's just too much water under that bridge."

"Are you actually listening to yourself? There's too much water for an actual relationship, but not enough to not fuck the guy casually? Pardon me, but we both know that's complete and utter bullshit."

I reached up and began rubbing my forehead, trying to stem the impending headache. "I can't," I said simply. "It's still too soon. I don't want to get hurt again." I was surprised that these words tumbled out of my mouth, and I suddenly realized that _this_ was why I'd wanted Dean to act the way he had. It would make it easier to push him away, to keep him at arms' length.

The truth slapped me upside the head, and it was absolutely brutal.

I was afraid of caring about Dean Ambrose.

Jesus Christ.


	5. Chapter 5

"You need to talk to him before this gets much further out of hand," Paul warned me. "He's slowly sinking into a nice, deep rage. Let's try to stop this before it gets worse."

I shook my head. "He's not going to want to talk to me, Paul. I almost can't say that I blame him."

"Just do me a favor and try, all right? I'll get him in here for you."

I sighed, nodding. Paul took off immediately, and I began trying to figure out what I was going to say.

I would have liked some time to process all of this, but time was a luxury that I didn't have. Paul was right; Dean was out there getting angrier by the second, and an angry Dean Ambrose was a danger to everyone around him. It needed to be stopped as quickly as possible, and I was the only one who could do that at this point.

The easiest way to make him happy would have been to simply give in to him, but part of me knew that wasn't right. Not yet. Maybe in the future, when things were less complicated in my head – but not tonight.

I was still mulling everything over when he sauntered in, a sneer of disgust already curling his lip. He barely looked at me as he shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

I didn't know how to even begin.

After several moments of silence, he glanced up at me through a curtain of hair and I found myself hurting for him.

"Do you know why I don't want to stay the night with you?"

He only stared at me, his expression unreadable.

"It's because I don't want you to see me crying myself to sleep," I admitted. I glanced down at my hands, which I'd clasped together in my lap. I sighed heavily. Of all the people in the world to talk about this with, it had to be Dean Ambrose.

"I thought my life was finally on track, you know? I thought that it was going to work out for me for a change. I had this nice guy who loved me, and I loved him the best that I could. It was probably stupid, but I was really banking on that happy ending. I invested everything I had into the idea. And it was taken from me without any sort of warning. Everything else that's happened to me, I could see the how and why of it – I could sometimes even see it coming, bearing down on me like a freight train that I just couldn't stop. This blindsided me completely"

I paused, still staring at my hands. This was harder than I'd thought it would be.

"I'm not ok right now." I glanced up at him for a moment. His face seemed a bit less stony, but he was still unmoved. "I thought I could be, and I probably will be at some point in the future. But it's not today, and I doubt that it'll be any time soon. I'm more broken than usual, and that is saying something."

I fell silent again, realizing that I'd gone a bit further off track than I had intended. I needed to bring it back to the matter at hand.

"You might wonder why I'm bothering to tell you all of this. Well, it's because…it's because I made a mistake with you, Dean. And I'm not talking about sleeping with you; I'm not talking about spending time with you – I'm talking about not telling you this right up front. I should have been better about telling you that I was just not ready."

I could feel tears coming to my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away.

"I feel really stupid, if it's any consolation. I doubt it is, but I feel like you should know that anyway. I…." I stopped myself short. I was about to tell him that I cared about him. That would be a dangerous thing to say.

"I wouldn't blame you if you still wanted to make my life hell," I said instead. "I deserve that for leading you on. So you do whatever you feel like you need to do, but just know that I am…really sorry." I finally looked up at him again. "I'm sorry."

I swallowed hard, waiting for his reaction.

I wanted him to yell, to scream, to kiss me, to hit me – anything. Instead, he stood there for a few moments sucking on his teeth before he simply turned around, opened the door, and walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

"Why didn't you guys say anything?" I asked, whapping both Roman and Seth on the arms.

"It was your mistake to make, baby girl," Ro replied, sticking his tongue out at me. "We figured if you hadn't learned your lesson yet, nothing we said would make a difference. You are a stubborn woman."

"Me? Stubborn? Absolutely not," I replied, grabbing my beer and attempting not to burst out laughing at the incredulous faces on my companions.

"Do you think he accepted your apology?" Seth asked.

I shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm not sure," I replied honestly. "I meant it, I can tell you that much. I don't think I could blame him if he didn't. It was a really stupid idea."

"Yeah," Seth agreed, shaking his head. "It was. You seem to have a lot of those."

He was half-teasing, which was why I didn't automatically begin beating him about the head. "I'm learning, at least. I figured out that it was a bad idea early on and I apologized. There's some real growth here."

"Or you finally began to listen to Paul," Ro added.

"That too." I paused. "Can we talk about something else now? Please? I've had enough of this topic for tonight."

We were hanging out at a bar a few blocks from the arena after the show. For a rare treat, it was just the three of us tonight – Leigh had things to do back in Tampa, and Kaitlyn was out with the other girls. She'd been attached to Ro's hip for the past few weeks. It was a good thing, seeing the two of them together and happy.

I enjoyed spending time with the guys and their ladies, but there was something soothing about it just being me and the guys. I think it had to do with the fact that I wasn't seeing the happy couples directly in my face, but that I knew Seth and Ro had no ulterior motives towards me. It was refreshing to not have to worry about that.

Our chatter moved on to other, more mundane things – video games, backstage drama, movies that were coming up – and I felt the best I had in a while as the night wore on.

Brad Maddox eventually stopped by the table, changing our dynamic entirely. He wasn't a bad guy; he just required a lot of attention. I found myself exhausted after a half an hour in his company and found a reason to head back to my hotel room.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" Brad asked, smiling widely at me.

I managed to smile back. "No, I wouldn't want to take you from these guys," I replied, patting Ro on the shoulder. "I'm just going to grab a cab. I'll be fine."

I stood up and turned to grab my coat. It was only then that I noticed Ambrose in the corner, watching our table. He was alone. I froze for a second, my heart pounding in my throat.

"Are you sure Liz? I wouldn't mind walking with you," Brad said, bringing me back into the moment. He rested a hand on my shoulder lightly.

My smile became tight and I gently detangled myself from him. "I'm positive. Thanks though."

I made my exit relatively quickly, electing to forego a cab and walk the four blocks. I thought it might help clear my head a bit.

Part of me kept expecting Ambrose to catch up with me, but he didn't. No one did.

I made it safely and slowly got ready for bed, the weight of the day settling on me suddenly.

I finally lay down, turning as I always did to stare at the empty space in the bed beside me. It had never bothered me until David and I had broken up. Now, it seemed to be all I could focus on at night. I wondered if it would ever be occupied again.

That always seemed to be the jumping point. I was so hurt by what I'd lost and how I'd lost it that I truly believed that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. In these moments, I actually found that to be preferable to the alternative. It would make my life easier. Emptier, yes. But ultimately easier.

There was a quiet knock on my door. I didn't bother to get up, assuming it was just one of the guys making sure I'd gotten back safely. After a few moments, my phone dinged on my nightstand. I rolled over and checked the text.

'Answer your door.'

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Apparently my night wasn't over just yet.


	7. Chapter 7

I answered the door in my t-shirt and panties. Ambrose had seen me wearing a lot less.

He stood in the doorway for a few minutes studying me before reaching in and flipping on the light overhead. I squinted against the brightness of it, sighing quietly while he stood there and watched me for a bit longer.

"What is it?" I asked, finally opening one eye completely.

He didn't say anything. He pushed his way in and shut the door behind him. We stood there for a few long minutes, our bodies close enough to touch.

He reached forward and pulled my chin up so he could study my face soberly. He ran his finger down one of the tear tracks on my face.

It seemed to make some kind of decision for him. He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me to the bed, sitting me on the edge. He sat beside me and carefully pulled an envelope out of his pocket to hand to me.

I glanced at him curiously but decided against asking. He hadn't spoken in hours; I had no reason to believe that he'd speak to me now. Instead, I just opened it up and pulled out the contents – pictures. A thick stack of pictures.

I flipped through the first few, disbelieving. They were all pictures of David and I. I looked up at him. "Why did you bring me these?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I was angry and I was still hurting.

He just stared back at me, his face blank and brooding.

"No, Ambrose. You tell me right now why you brought these here."

He remained quiet. I shoved them back into the envelope and pushed them into his chest. "Get out," I growled.

He stayed where he was. After a few minutes more, he reached up and stroked my face before he leaned over and kissed me. I shoved him away angrily.

"I don't know what you're doing, and I don't care. Enough. Just leave me alone."

"Lizzy," he murmured, putting his arms around my shoulders and handing the envelope back to me.

I still had no idea what he was hoping to accomplish, but it had become apparent that he wasn't going away until he got what he came for – whatever that might be. Reluctantly, I slid the pictures back out. I flipped through them quickly, flooded with memories.

I stopped at one in particular of the two of us at some function or another – it looked like a wedding. We were dancing, our foreheads pressed together and his hands wrapped tightly around my waist. My face was in profile, but it was still easy to see that I was smiling. David's face simply shone with adoration.

It hit me suddenly that this was taken the night he'd first told me he loved me. Looking back at that picture now, I wasn't sure how I couldn't have seen that he did just by the way he looked at me. I lightly touched his frozen face, tracing the lines of it that I'd grown to know so well.

I impatiently wiped my tears away, sniffling. Something inside me just kept breaking over and over again; it kept breaking right when I thought that it had started to heal. I was getting really tired of that feeling.

Dean pulled the pictures from my shaking hands and kissed me then, his hands starting to wander.

"Stop," I murmured, pushing him away half-heartedly. He only stepped up his efforts.

"Pretend I'm him," he whispered in my ear, pushing me onto my back. "Just for tonight, Liz. I'm going to give him back to you. I want to know what it feels like to actually make love with you."

"No," I said, rolling away from him and shaking my head. "Just no. That's wrong on so many different levels."

He grabbed my hair and yanked me back to him. "I'm trying so hard to be nice. I'm trying to help you move past this. All I want in return is a chance to love you."

"The way you want to do it is sick," I replied as calmly as I could. "You're not him, and you never will be."

His lips curled up in disgust for only a brief second. "Fine," he said evenly. "Then I'm just going to be me, and I'm going to fuck you tonight whether you want it or not."

He pulled me back to him, yanking my thighs apart.

I didn't fight him. I just didn't have anything left after the day that had passed. I lay there, desperately wishing for the night to end while he bit and licked and sucked, eventually pushing his way inside of me.

I started crying again at some point, silent tears running down my cheeks. I was completely overwhelmed.

Ambrose laughed, gripping my hair tightly. He leaned over my face and gently licked my tears away, smiling.

I was disgusted, and I wrenched away from him. "What the hell is your problem?" I snapped.

He grinned at me. "You _are_ still there, then. I was starting to wonder if you'd been replaced with a blow-up doll." He grabbed me and tugged me back to him, thrusting deep inside of me once more. "Come on, Liz," he murmured, bending down to kiss my neck. "Just help me out, and this can all be over. Just move with me and I can finish." He grabbed my hips and pulled them towards him, illustrating what he wanted me to do.

I complied. I just wanted this to be over.


	8. Chapter 8

I wandered through the next day in a bit of a daze.

Ambrose had, mercifully, left immediately after he was finished. I had elected to take another shower before climbing in to bed and crying myself to sleep.

I cried a bit harder than I had on previous nights. It wasn't just David I was crying for; it was me as well. I was tired of hurting, I was tired of fighting, and I was so tired of Dean Ambrose.

I was disgusted with myself for how I had let him treat me.

When I felt strong enough, I was going to do something about this. I didn't know when that would be or what I would do, but I wasn't going to sit by any longer and let this shit simply happen to me without any sort of reaction.


	9. Sequel

Thank you all, once again, for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following. I'm very glad to see that people are still enjoying this! The next part is posted under the title "This is Where I Draw the Line, the Infection Must Die." I hope you enjoy.


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